


Royalty

by nerdlemon



Category: Darkiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Darkstache - Freeform, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-08-17 00:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlemon/pseuds/nerdlemon
Summary: Wilford - an aspiring singer trying to surviveDark - a god among kings of crimeThe two of them literally couldn't be any different, but fate loves her stupid games.





	1. Royalty

 The bar was dark and filthy, that much was obvious. The stench of cheap cigars and even cheaper alcohol that lingered in the air was slowly latching onto the expensive suit Dark was wearing. Why he agreed to meet in here, he did not know. The company here was hardly the one Dark was used to. From dirty thieves to drunk workmen, everybody was there to drink away their problems and hat little money they had.

  
 Dark was getting impatient, the man he was meeting tonight was already late. While contemplating whether he should leave or not, the man, owner of the bar, finally showed up. The owner looked just like his bar, cheap and sleazy.

 "Ah, mista' Dark, you're 'ere. Good, good." the owner exclaimed jovially as he sat down. "Would ya like somethin' before we start? A drink, cigar? Maybe some doll to keep ya company... "

  
 "My time is a very precious thing and you already. Wasted. Enough. Either you get to the point or I'm ending this meeting right now."

  
 The man, suddenly not so confident, just nodded and began talking. "Well, ya see mista' Dark, I'm a humble man. All I 'ave is this bar and the only thing that keeps it runnin' is that the chief of coppers has a debt in 'ere. But, 'e ain't 'appy with this and my luck is runnin' out. I need..."

 A loud bang coming from the stage interrupted the man's speech. They turned their heads to the front of the bar and the musician shot them an apologetic smile while picking up his fallen instrument.

 "...As I was sayin', I need an access to a dock. That's what I wanted to ask ya. An access to the Northern dock so I can bring some goods 'ere."

 Dark's stare was piercing the man's head. While he /did/ control an almost whole city, the Northern dock had a prominent position, since most of his good came through there. And Dark wasn't a sharing person. "And why pray tell, would I ever do that? What do you have, to ever convince me to let you use it?" he drawled.

 "W-well, ya see.."

  _If I had the money, let me tell you how it'd be,_  
_I'd take over the country, everyone would bow to me._  
_Sit up in my palace, baby you would be my queen,_  
_we'd run this ship together, just you wait and see._  
_We'll be royalty._

 A melodic voice ran through the suddenly silent bar. A man in a white and red striped suit, pink mustache, and matching hair were standing on the stage. Dark ignored the man's rambling and stared at the singer instead. Never in his life, had he heard such beautiful sound. The singer took his breath away and a million questions began to form in his head.

 "Who is that?"

 The startled owner stopped talking and confusedly answered. "Oh, 'im? Wilford, Wilford Warfstache. 'e sings 'ere.  Keeps the scum in check."

 Dark was silently considering his choices. Would it be worthy, to partially lose a deck over this? And so, he made a decision.

 "Him."

 "Excuse me"?

 "You wanted to know the price for the dock. It's him. Fire that singer and I will allow you to use my dock."

 "Deal."

* * *

 Wilford couldn't wait to get home and finally relax. He was sitting in what was supposed to be a dressing room. In reality, it was a moldy dump in the back of the bar, rearranged so Wil could change. He folded his suit, careful to not ruin it more than it already was. The owner suggested him to get a new one a long time ago, but Wl couldn't. He just didn't have money for a new one. That's why he was singing here every night, doing a 'woman's' job. Nobody else was hiring and no girl wanted to sing in a bar like this. So he just had to roll with it.

 A gentle knock on the door interrupted Wil from his musings. He scrambled to open it, knocking everything around him down in the process. Cursing, he made his way around the mess and slammed the door open. A tall stranger in an expensive black suit stood there, patiently waiting.

 "May I help you?"

 "Depends. Are you Wilford Warfstache?"

 Wil really didn't have the patience nor the energy to play games. And somebody as rich as this guy in this type of bar? No, something wasn't right. "That would be me."

 The stranger smiled. "Your performance tonight was quite exquisite. I am here to make you an offer. How would you like working for me?'

 Why would anyone want to willingly have a pink-haired male singer, he didn't know. "I-what?"

 "You heard me." 

 "Then I refuse." This clearly shocked the other man, but before he said anything, Wil continued: "Look, I'm sure there's plenty of girls outside that would be thrilled by job offer like this, but not me. This is the only place that was hiring and I'm not gonna let this go just because you asked me to. So thanks but no. Goodbye."

 Before he could shut the door, the stranger managed to put something in his pocket. "If you ever change your mind, this is where you find me."  
 Wil sighed. Could this night be any worse?

* * *

  "You're fired."

  "WHAT?"

 "Let's face it Wil, you're maybe an eye candy for the girls, but that won't do much in here. So pack your things and get out."

 Wil was leaning on the back entrance door, clutching his few possessions to his chest. He couldn't go back home, the householder was certainly waiting for him, demanding his rent money. Money he did not have.

 He reluctantly pulled out the card he got from the stranger. There were an address and a name written on it. He made a decision, swiftly walking toward the nearest bus stop.

 "So, Upside Down, huh? Delightful name."


	2. The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wilford's life is turning for the better.

 Whatever was Wil expecting, this was _definitely_ not it. The building he was staring at was way too old and way too shabby to be the fancy bar Dark came from. Not the mention it was _barber shop_.

 He confusedly stared at the business card in his hand. And then back at the barbershop. And once more at the card. And, for assurance, one more time at the shop.  
 With a shrug, he carefully opened the door. He was, surprisingly, greeted with a sight of several people getting a haircut or having their beards shaven.  

"Uuuh... is this the Upside Down?"

 All speech stopped and suddenly, there were many eyes staring holes inside him.

 "Who's askin'?" the elderly barber broke the silence.

 "I uhm.. I've got this from eh... Mister Dark?" 

 The barber took Wil's card and carefully examined it. Huffing, he motioned for Wil to follow him. The man lead him to the back and down the stairs. There they stopped in front of... nothing? Just a bare wall, nothing else.

 "Here ya go, lad. Don't ya dare to speak of this, ya hear me?" the man grumbled.

 Suddenly, the wall slid sideways, revealing a whole hidden floor (floors?). Black and gold seemed to be the dominant interior colors, broken only by occasional green or red of the playing tables. And precisely those were occupied by people, rich people, gambling their wealth away. Famous politicians, actresses, and sports stars were seated on the various love seats or sofas, their lovers hanging on their arms. Or they were at the bar, drinking their problems and debts away with imported alcohol. 

 The only thing missing was music. He saw a podium with all the instrument ready, yet no musician was playing. The singer was missing as well.

 Wil has only heard about a local like this in stories from patrons in his old job. A feeling of embarrassment washed over him, he didn't belong here, between all those millionaires. Hell, he was wearing washed up shirt and tattered suspenders! As he turned away, a voice called out. 

 "Mr. Warfstache!" Dark was making his way to Wil, ignoring all those people that tried to sway him away. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

 "Seeing as I was fired, it's not like I had a choice."

 "What an unfortunate occurrence."

 "Indeed."

 Dark stared at him for a while, observing Wil with his unnervingly black eyes. "What do you think?" he asked suddenly.

 "E-excuse me?"

 "The bar. What do you think?"

 "Oh," Yeah, of course he was asking about the bar, "it's... certainly something," he answered truthfully.

 Dark looked pleased. Too pleased, actually. "What would you say we took our business somewhere.. quieter?"

 Dark lead Wil to his office, hidden in the back of the bar. The office was the polar opposite of the bar. While the bar was grandiose with elaborate decorations, Dark's office was simple in design. Dark red walls, Mahagonny table, fireplace with two armchairs and an alcohol shelf. It looked almost cozy. As if the owner spent lots of time there.

 Dark sat behind the desk and motioned for Wil to sit against him.

 "Whiskey?'

 "No, thank you."

 Dark hummed, closed his eyes and clasped his hands.

 "How soon can you start?"

 "I, uhm.. whenever you want?"

 "Now."

 "Now?"

"Now." Dark opened his eyes again to find flabbergasted Wil staring at him with open mouth. "Don't look so surprised. It's not like I can just go and hang a "Help Needed" pamphlets, can I?"

 "I.. I guess."

 "Excellent. My... assistant will help you find your dressing room. Everything you'll need is already in there. Do not interrupt me," he said as Wil opened mouth to say something, "If you'll need anything, feel free to ask for it. Oh, and about your payment..." he reached into a drawer, "I believe this would be sufficient."

 Wil took the cheque. And stared. Almost _three fucking hundred_ bucks a month for singing? This wouldn't just pay for his flat. No, this would let him move out and for once, have a nice meal and a warm water.

 "Keep it. Take it as your... starting salary."

 "What do you want me to sing?"

 Dark's smile was ice cold, "What about the song you sang yesterday?"

 "Understand... boss."


	3. Me And My Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an unexpected guest makes appearance.

 After a few months, Wil fell into a comfortable routine. At least as comfortable as one working in an illegal club could. But he wasn't complaining.  
   
In these last four months, he managed to move from his old ruined flat to an apartment in the middle of the city. He had more money he could ever spend on his own. No longer going to sleep hungry, no longer worried about the payment demanding landlord, no longer dressing up in ragged uniform. No, he was at the top of the food chain now.  
  
 Wil's meeting with Dark all those months ago was the last proper interaction he had with the man. There were times he saw him in a dark corner of his own club, listening to his singing or the occasional 'drink on the house' as the Texan bartender would say. Instead of Dark, Wil got to interact with others that helped run the bar and other... activities.  
  
 The blind accountant, rarely seen in the main club, preferring the solitude of the library.  
  
 The technician, more machine than human as Wilford got to know when he saw the man's prosthetic body parts.  
  
 Bim, Wil's superior and the only one Wil knew the name of. He was a constant in the bar, always making sure the guests are entertained.  
  
 The detective, Mr. Sheppard, bribed to keep the cops out of Dark's way.  
  
 And the doctor, the one that saved the technician's life or at least, that's what Wilford heard. He can be seen entering and leaving the back door too frequently for Wil's taste.  
  
 The back door. An unassuming fireproof black door behind Dark's office. He learned to not ask questions, especially if he saw anybody entering it. That person never came back. Wil suspected Bim had something to do with the bodies disappearing but he never had the courage to ask, nor accept his famous meat pie.  
  
 Wil might've not known what he's getting himself into then, but it was too late to back out now. So he did as he always did. He smiled and sang, successfully ignoring every strange thing that happened around him. And so far, it was working. Until _that_ woman came.  
  
 It was a pretty good night so far. The crowd loved him, Bim wasn't on his ass and Dark got him another drink, not that he would ever admit it. To be honest, it was a nice gesture. But Wil doubted Dark saw him in _that_ way. When not in his office, he was constantly swarmed by ladies trying their best to flirt with him.  
  
 After he finished the song, Wil made a beeline to the bar. He was sweaty with a dry throat and in desperate need of water. But the sight at the bar made him stop dead in his tracks. Dark, with an amused smile on his face and a woman, laughing while throwing her arms around. Wil clenched his jaw and came closer.  
   
"Celine."  
  
The woman spat out her drink and her eyes widened in shock.  
  
 "William?"  
  
 "How nice to see you here." Drawled Wil, venom dripping with every word.  
  
 "You know each other?" asked confused Dark, drinks already forgotten.  
 

 Wil crossed his arms at his chest. "Oh, we know each other, am I right, _love_?"  
  
 Celine winced. "William, I..."  
  
 "Keep it. I don't want to hear your lies."  
  
 Wil turned around and angrily marched away, ignoring both Bim's and Dark's shouts. Seeing red, he made his way to the underground garage and into his black car.  
  
 "Wil! Wil!" He faintly heard Dark's yells through the ringing in his ears but, again, ignored them as he drove off in full speed.  
  
 Wil drove through the empty streets, knuckles white from the grip he had on the steering wheel. He wasn't paying attention to the road, rage still pumping through his veins. How dare she, turning up at the bar. She had to know. Yes, she came only to ruin his life again. That was it. To ruin it with her lies and-  
   
He slammed the brake down but it was too late. The stone fence was too close and he went too fast. In a second, the front of the car scrunched and Wil found himself hanging through the front window. A metallic taste filled his mouth, his ears started ringing again and a sharp pain spread through his body. Black spots appeared in his vision and after that, Wil knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the grammar check is showing me 13 mistakes, so I deeply apologize for them.


	4. Not Really A Chapter

This story is not abandoned! I just have school to take care of right now. I WILL continue this story, as soon as I graduate.

Thank you for all your support and for patience!


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